


Wahétken

by vacci_piano



Series: Omega Assassins [4]
Category: Assassin's Creed - All Media Types
Genre: Accidental Voyeurism, Age Difference, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, And how, Canonical Character Death, Daddy Issues, Discussion of Abortion, Father-Daughter Relationship, Father/Son Incest, M/M, Mpreg, Omega Ratonhnhaké:ton | Connor, Omega Verse, Unplanned Pregnancy, tagging this as Explicit just in case
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-18
Updated: 2020-04-18
Packaged: 2021-03-01 22:07:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23714875
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vacci_piano/pseuds/vacci_piano
Summary: There might be something between father and son, but it is not because they are alpha and omega.
Relationships: Haytham Kenway/Ratonhnhaké:ton | Connor, Ratonhnhaké:ton | Connor & Io:nhiòte
Series: Omega Assassins [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1704466
Comments: 15
Kudos: 44





	Wahétken

**Author's Note:**

> Trigger warning for incest.
> 
> Dedicated to my fellow ConHayth trashbags, you know who you are.

Connor has never sought fatherly guidance from anyone, least of all his own father. He was raised by his mother and those in the village, and he is better for it. True, he has longed to see Haytham's world through the journal the man left behind; but the journal is lost, consumed by the same fire that took his mother, and whatever he imagined of his father's place in the world, has long since lost its influence.

Meeting Achilles has banished him from Haytham's cause. The more he learns about Templars, the more at home he feels in his Assassin's robes.

And yet.

Haytham speaks and Connor cannot help but listen. His father rests his hand on his shoulder, and Connor lets him.

Connor yearns, but not for a father, even though it is precisely because Haytham is his father that he has these thoughts.

His father smells intoxicating. Strange and... familiar. For someone who still holds imagined memories for what has been lost, what has never been, it is hard to resist. The way his father's eyes darken and the way the alpha crowds him when the omega's pheromones smell the strongest is reason enough to suggest his father feels similarly about his scent.

They argue, but sometimes Connor becomes confused about what they are arguing about. Haytham's touches linger a little longer, his fingers brush against Connor's, as if he has forgotten what his hands were trying to do in the first place. They are both lost in a daze neither knows to wake up from.

*

Connor had been forced into a disguise, again, and he moves to disrobe the garments. The two of them are hiding behind an alley, next to a busy street - not entirely hidden, perhaps, but only visible to those who know to look. It shames him, how easily he lets his father press against his back, and he turns to rest his forehead against the wall in front of him. The borrowed shirt is lifted from him and it falls to the ground, forgotten. Haytham's hands come to rest at his hips, nails digging into his taut flesh and he feels lips mouthing at his shoulder, leaving behind a trail of wet heat. Connor's breath hitches and his own hands come to rest against the arms trapping him in place.

“Don't stop,” he whispers.

“No,” his father agrees cruelly.

*

Sometimes, they have enough restraint to find a bed. Connor has never had a partner before and at first, he tries lying to himself. His actions could be born out of curiosity. When he impales himself on Haytham with abandon, it could be because of his heat.

He has never deceived himself before; lies, even by omission, are beneath his character. Now, he attempts to do so anyway. Perhaps this dishonest side of him is inherited from his father. He cannot imagine his mother to have been capable of such deception.

*

Haytham thinks how much _easier_ their union would be to bear, if their union came to fruition because of their biological needs overriding their senses – nothing more than an alpha and an omega in pursuit of completion – instead of the truth.

How much easier for everyone, if it could be blamed on instinct, instead of succumbing to desires committed by sound minds, fully conscious of how _wrong_ they fit.

They should have seen the signs. Becoming more drawn to each other, day by day, was a symptom; not the cause. A fool could have told them what was happening.

*

Choosing the doctor turns out to be an easy solution. Since nobody at Homestead knows of their relation to each other – save for Achilles – Connor and Haytham turn to Dr. White, whose loyalty and discretion were secured by the native a long time ago. Should someone come asking around, no amount of coin or threats could ever sway his mind.

*

“It is possible that prolonged exposure to the same set of pheromones has triggered a pre-bond. The omega recognizes its alpha, even without a bond bite. If that pre-bond is not broken by distance, then spending a heat together can result in children. It is rare compared to fully bonded pairs but has been known to happen between couples who feel a deeper connection.”

Haytham has gone rigid, face pale and white as a sheet. Denial has been their only defense for far too long and they have been willfully blind.

Because this - _this_ is the amalgamation of their sins. They thought themselves clever, convincing themselves there would be no consequences to their actions, but mother nature has seen fit to put them in their place. The shame accompanying each hidden kiss, every whimpered moan and damning release of passion that should have never been; _that_ shame is nothing compared to this.

Connor stumbles outside and Haytham is brought out of his stupor by the sound of retching.

With sluggish movements, he follows the sound and soon finds himself leaning over Connor's hunched form, carefully bringing his own trembling hands to rest on the boy's shoulders. He is uncertain about who it is he is trying to comfort. Connor, or himself?

Knees growing weaker by the second, he wonders if he will be able to stand again with his back straight, walking with pride and purpose, as he has done until this very day. The pride had been false; perhaps twenty years ago Haytham could have claimed to possess some morals. Whatever he had been left with, had been extinguished the moment he had touched his son.

After a moment, both father and son are broken out of their dreamlike state by footsteps, stopping just behind them.

“I take it this is not the desired result of your coupling.” Dr. White's voice is quiet and kind, but Haytham cannot stop the initial feeling of loathing he now feels for the man for having knocked his world off its axis.

The doctor continues, undeterred by their silence. “There are of course... Options.”

“No.”

Haytham is taken aback by Connor's unwavering voice, steely in its resolve. Connor takes a moment, choosing his words carefully. “I see no shame in the alternative and continuing this pregnancy would be cruel to the child. I know what I should want. But I cannot...” Connor seems to crumble in on himself, his voice finally betraying his youth. “I cannot. I _will not_.”

He turns his head to meet his father's eyes. Haytham is struck by the heartbreak - but underneath it he can see determination. Connor would sooner reject Haytham – and really, when had they become so dependent on each other? – than give up his choice.

The world around them grows still and quiet. The leaves have stopped rustling and the sound of water from a nearby creek has disappeared.

Haytham closes his eyes, waiting for the moment his mind grows just as quiet, so he does not have to scream. When he opens them again, Dr. White is gone – Haytham does not care where – and it seems some time has passed. His own hands are still on Connor. Haytham pulls his son up to his feet and brings their lips together slowly, savoring each tremble and trying to soothe unspoken aches.

As the kisses stop, they rest their heads together.

“I am quite old, you know.”

“I know.”

“It is quite likely I will teach the child to become a Templar.”

He is unprepared for Connor's laugh, but Haytham does not think he has ever heard anything so pure. Soon Connor is crying, laughter turning into silent sobs that wreck his son's large frame, and Haytham holds him.

*

Jenny had vowed to never leave London again, content in her self-imposed exile at the family mansion her father had left behind. It still holds many secrets within, but Jenny is in no hurry to discover them all. She is quite fed up with the world her father had been a part of, but bouts of curiosity – distilled by her contempt – sometimes drive her to seek them out. Some she has seen; some have remained undisturbed. Perhaps someone else will find them to be of interest once she is gone.

Yes. Jennifer Scott is quite content with her miserable life. But curiosity is not so easily dismissed.

She had just learned of Connor's existence thanks to a letter only months prior - her and Haytham's preferred choice of communication, since neither knows what to say to each other in person - when a new letter arrives. Her brother is asking for her.

She has never been fond of her brother and she does not owe him anything - would that his upbringing had been hers, and maybe they could have been true siblings - but to her own surprise, she finds herself crossing the seas once more.

*

Io:nhiòte follows Ratonhnhaké:ton to the creek, a skip in her step as she watches raké:ni survey the scene. She is mesmerized by the glimmer of scales that flash in the water, but Ratonhnhaké:ton is looking for something else.

“Doesn't everyone have two parents?” Io:nhiòte asks after a lull. Ratonhnhaké:ton turns to regard her daughter. He smiles, but it does not reach his eyes. “Yes.”

“But then how come you only have one?”

Ratonhnhaké:ton crouches down to pick her up and she hugs him, happy to be carried in such a way.

“Actually, my child, I have three parents. One who nurtured me, one who taught me and one who loves me. I will tell you all about it, when you are older.”

Io:nhiòte, who has only ever heard about the grouchy man with the bad leg, is quieted by the news. “Don't they all love you?”

“Yes, they do.”

“Then... Does one of them love you two times more?”

Ratonhnhaké:ton smiles wide, his sadness evaporating. “How did you get so clever?” He attacks her with tickles and Io:nhiòte shrieks in delight.

*

“Our daughter seems to be clever like you.”

Haytham hums, content to lie still and wait for sleep to overtake him. But it would seem his omega has different plans.

“... Cleverer still for wanting to become an Assassin.”

Haytham opens his eyes, gaze looking predatory as he pounces on his omega. Soon Haytham finds himself with a pair of strong legs entwined around his waist, quiet moans filling the air as he licks and sucks the mating gland he had claimed years ago.

Haytham gives a vicious grind with his hips and is answered in kind. He trades kisses with his omega, the kisses turning sloppy as their hardened lengths continue to press against each other. Suddenly, he is hit with a honeyed scent emanating from the body under him.

“Your heat is starting.”

“ _Yes_.” The omega hisses.

Haytham glances at their bedside table, seeing the small medicine bottle sitting empty on top of it. He regards it with a pang of longing, but the more rational side of him is relieved.

There will be no more children. (Two accidents have blessed him with more than he deserves.)

The alpha in him rebels at the idea of being denied every time, trying to claim its rightful ownership of the omega by sating its mate with its seed, over and over again.

Slowly, Haytham moves his hips until he is able to enter the slick entrance beneath, ready for him. The omega is bent in half, legs spread wide as Haytham starts to rut, pounding the younger man into the mattress without mercy. He will take his time later, but right now he needs to alleviate the oncoming fever.

His knot swells, come inflating the omega. Unable to hold back any longer, his omega wails with each new spasm and release inside him. They are in bed now; they do not have to be quiet.

“ _Father, you feel so good_...”

They are so preoccupied with each other, their moans and grunts are enough to mask another presence in their room.

Io:nhiòte watches in silence as Ratonhnhaké:ton calls out to his father again, his spine arching in a curve, come erupting with such force, small drops of it land on the floor just in reach of Io:nhiòte.

Trying to catch their breath, the two men continue their dance, slower this time, as Io:nhiòte creeps out of the room and into her own bed she had fled earlier, having been pursued by nightmares. She does not have to wait long until sleep claims her. For the first time in her life, her sleep is dreamless.

In the morning, only her aunt Jenny greets her at the breakfast table.

“Your parents will be busy for a few days. I thought we might go into town.”

Io:nhiòte nods, understanding but still trying to make sense of the world around her.

*

Io:nhiòte looks up towards the sky, following the eagle's movements with her trained eyes. Ratonhnhaké:ton joins her side. He is now much older, but still very comely.

They do not speak as they continue to walk deeper into the forest.

Later, as they sit around a small campfire, waiting for the meat to brown and the sunset bathes their forms in gold, Io:nhiòte finally looks to her father for answers.

“Raké:ni. If you were an alpha, would you bed me?”

Ratonhnhaké:ton does not look surprised by the question. His girl has always been clever, cleverer than either of her parents combined.

“No. Never.”

“Then there is no problem. I am glad he loved you as you loved him.”

Ratonhnhaké:ton smiles and regards her for a moment. It seems he can finally offer her some of his own advice on the subject.

“There is no shame in not choosing an alpha.” Unlike in the world of white men, his people often traveled their own path, preferring the comfort of relying on an entire community instead of pursuing a bond.

Connor has always been different, in more ways than one.

“I confess, my own plan was to wait until I was done with my duties. Your arrival changed that.” And his duties were many; to his village and its people, to the Spirit.

The Creed is still his. It is a wonder he had even entertained the thought of becoming bonded before Haytham's true role in his life.

His daughter's future would be different; the village is gone, the Spirit buried. She can choose her own path.

Io:nhiòte shrugs and casts her gaze to the flames. “Aunt Jenny was never happy.”

Ratonhnhaké:ton adds another log to the embers, before turning the meat. Task momentarily finished, he waits until his daughter is ready to hear more. She finally looks up.

“Aunt Jenny was... Different.” Ratonhnhaké:ton starts. “When she was younger, she denied her nature and fought against becoming bonded like her peers. She almost succeeded, until her father decided for her. She wanted to become an Assassin like him, but her father thought she would live a longer, safer life if she were to accept her omegan duties.” His face grows somber. “Being an alpha, he did what he thought a respectable gentleman ought to, in the eyes of his society; he promised her to an alpha, but the alpha betrayed them.”

Io:nhiòte listens with rapt attention, waiting to learn why her aunt had kept her close, despite resenting her niece so openly. They had been much closer when Io:nhiòte was still a child, her omegan nature still hidden and undeveloped.

Ratonhnhaké:ton tells her about Jenny's trials. How she had never been bonded, but had she been, much could have been avoided. When Haytham found her, after searching for her for years, she was unprepared for her omegan side to finally recognize someone.

“Haytham brought his friend with him.”

“What was his name?”

“Holden,” Ratonhnhaké:ton looks a little sadder. “I think Haytham loved him, but they were both alphas. Just like it was with _istá_ \- it is why Haytham and istá parted ways before my birth. You have never met an alpha-pair, have you? It is difficult to connect with another alpha without bonding - it is different for them. Without a bond, it can become violent. To bond, one needs to submit, and no alpha would willingly submit to another alpha without risking death.”

Io:nhiòte listens. How Haytham found a sister but at the cost of losing his lover. First to Jenny's captors by way of them mutilating Holden and leaving his mind shattered. And then later to Jenny, because she understood Holden in a way Haytham never could.

But Holden could not be her alpha.

“Before she was able to convince him to bond with her, he took his own life. The pain of loving two people, but never being able to hold them was too much for him.”

Io:nhiòte stands up to sit next to Ratonhnhaké:ton and leans her head against his shoulder, finally letting her tears flow freely. Mourning the omega she never knew.

*

There were many things Jenny had taught Io:nhiòte. She still remembers her first heat.

_Spread your legs. Start slow, first by rubbing._

_One finger only. Be gentle._

_Now two fingers. Stretch._

_Keep stretching._

_You may use the phallus, if you like the stretch and fill. Use oil if the burn is too much and you are not producing enough slick._

_The phallus can never compare to a real knot, but it helps._

_Good. Now do it again. The fever will pass._

Jenny had watched over her, but even through the heat, Io:nhiòte had recognized the look of disdain on her aunt's face.

It no longer haunts her. The disdain was not meant for her.

She is an omega, and she will choose an alpha. An alpha who looks at her like Haytham looked at Ratonhnhaké:ton, but without guilt. An alpha who sees what her life could be like, like Jenny did, but without prejudice.

The right alpha.

*

translations:

Wahétken = bad

raké:ni = father

istá = mother

**Author's Note:**

> The title is a reference to all three omegas: Connor is the wrong choice, Jenny never got the chance to be "right", and Io:nhiòte is a product of incest.
> 
> I thought the incest was taking it far enough but then I decided, you know what, let's make this ten times more messed up and add an unplanned pregnancy. Incest + geriatric sperm donor = recipe for disaster. Don’t try this at home, kids!


End file.
